Upon announcing Wishbone earlier this year, Conan Gray described the experience of these songs pouring out of him over the last two years. His latest was written mostly alone while on tour and became “an egregiously niche soundtrack” to his own life and for the friends he let hear it as the music came togerher.
As Wishbone unfolds, that revelatory intimacy is embroidered into the lyrics and production, a return to form after the glittery synths and New Wave of last year’s Max Martin-assisted Found Heaven. Gray’s latest is tender and sweet, unveiling itself like secrets at a slumber party with your best friends.
The album opens with “Actor,” a guitar-driven cut that details a love affair that was hidden in plain sight, sneaking through hotel lobbies and wearing each other’s clothes. But like many other songs on the project, the memories are soured by the heartbreak that left more than just a bruise on the neck. Gray’s storytelling is stronger across the board on Wishbone, more mature and sharpened by time and the types of life-changing, heart-shattering experiences that inspired the songs. On a highlight like “Nauseous,” his lyrical growth is made most clear, careful to avoid corny metaphors is describing a love that feels like a threat and leaves him feeling “nauseous,” cutting to the bone while trying to understand “why I feel safe with bad guys,” as he sings.
Between the softer, slower moments are some real hit-worthy pop-rock cuts. “My World” stands out with its swaggering confidence and shimmering, sing-along chorus. “Care” scratches an itch for Lillith Fair-esque Nineties dreampop. They never get as flashy or opulent as some of the songs on Found Heaven, but the more subdued, campfire-y energy feels like the perfect pocket for Gray.
For as vulnerable as much of the music feels, Gray wears his heart proudly on his sleeve. He’s never sounded more confident or comfortable, a thrilling promise of what’s to come from him in the future.
